


Why Indeed

by LadyKes



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Just Add Kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKes/pseuds/LadyKes
Summary: The continuing adventures of Jack Robinson, Phryne Fisher, and a cat.   Semi-sequel toNamesake.





	Why Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of 4000 kudos, part two of Jack and the cat.

He wasn’t sure how or even when he’d become a regular guest at Wardlow. Somehow, though, he found himself in Miss Fisher’s parlor having drinks at least once a month. Generally it was unplanned and at the end of an investigation that she had once again interfered with, but occasionally he was invited to a formal gathering. Such was the case for tonight. 

She’d informed him airily that he should dress comfortably, but he hadn’t been entirely certain what that had meant, nor had he been certain he wanted to know what that meant. Instead he wore his usual suit, and it was only partially because he arrived straight from the station.

Mr. Butler welcomed him in with a smile and an offer to take his coat.

“Good evening, Inspector.”

“Good evening, Mr. Butler,” Jack greeted him seriously as he handed the other man his hat and coat.

“If you’ll go through to the parlor,” Mr. Butler suggested, and Jack nodded before doing so.

The parlor had had most of its usual furniture removed and several large cushions were in the place of it. The tables were now low to the ground as well, and he understood why Miss Fisher had suggested that he should dress comfortably.

Fortunately, he had his suits cut to allow him to stand, sit, kneel, crouch, run, and fight, since all of those actions might be required of him -- though hopefully not all in the same day. 

“Good evening, Jack.” Miss Fisher’s voice was low and amused behind him and he turned to see her in a filmy loose thing that nevertheless managed to make it quite clear that a woman was wearing it.

“Miss Fisher. You’ve done a bit of redecorating, I see,” he said gravely, and she shrugged one slim shoulder.

“One really must redecorate once in awhile, even if it’s just for a night. Please make yourself comfortable,” she invited him, and he considered which cushion he should select. The one by the piano seemed the easiest to settle onto, and he stepped towards it.

“Jack! No,” Miss Williams scolded, which made him look at her in surprise. However, it was immediately clear she was addressing a sleek dark brown tabby cat, which was currently carrying a small dead rodent into the parlor. Miss Williams scooped up both tabby and rodent and took them back out again with haste. He could hear her scolding the cat as her voice faded away into the kitchen.

“We’ve named the cat Jack,” Miss Fisher told him with a mischievous little smirk.  
He was not going to ask. He really wasn’t. It was likely that the answer was going to be sensible only in the most vague way, after all. No, he had to. 

“Why?” 

“Well, he’s got a very firm sense of what should and should not be done in any given situation, and you ought to see him look reproachful when you do what he thinks you oughtn’t,” Miss Fisher explained.

“Ah,” he replied, which was not the most intelligent response, but Miss Fisher had that effect. Occasionally there was simply nothing he could immediately think of to say in response to her. In fact, she rather seemed to enjoy it when that occurred, and so she seemed to be enjoying it now. 

“Well, I’m sure Mr. Butler appreciates the cat’s efforts on behalf of rodent removal, even if the cat removes them into places Miss Williams would rather them not be,” he finally offered, and Miss Fisher chuckled.

“Oh, Mr. Butler most certainly does. And Dot most certainly doesn’t,” she agreed airily. “But I suppose we could extend that to his namesake too.”

“Could we?” he replied neutrally, and sat on his chosen cushion as she motioned towards it again. He felt ridiculous sitting on a cushion on the ground, and he was quite certain he hadn’t folded himself onto it as gracefully as Miss Fisher folded herself onto her own cushion.

“You can’t tell me there aren’t those who object to the way you remove the rodents of the world,” she pointed out.

“Indeed there are, but those objections are generally from the, er, rodents, not those who would wish to have them removed,” he pointed out. There had been those above him who’d objected to the way he did his job, but it was relatively rare. And this was a ridiculous conversation to have while sitting on a ridiculous cushion. 

“Fortunately for all,” she agreed. “Except the rodents, of course. Now, will you have a cocktail, Jack?”

Mr. Butler appeared with the drinks tray and offered one to them both, then disappeared.

“To Jack,” Miss Fisher offered a toast, and he chuckled.

“Dare I ask which one you’re toasting, Miss Fisher?”

“Both, of course. Why do you even ask?”

Why indeed.


End file.
